


The Desolation of Thranduil

by FridaVI



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Drama, Family, Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaVI/pseuds/FridaVI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The king’s hall was not the place for joy. The throne was sat by a king who was condemned to suffer interminably. It was a purgatory for him, a place of waiting. He had waited for so long; waited for the new sunrise, waited for the next spring, waited for the next conquest. But most of all, Thranduil was waiting for his beloved son to come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> * The Elvish phrases came from http://tara.istad.org/sind-phrases.htm * I didn't write them.  
> Hi, everyone. This is my new story about King Thranduil. Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it.

The king’s hall was not the place for joy. The throne was sat by a king who was condemned to suffer interminably. It was a purgatory for him, a place of waiting. He had waited for so long; waited for the new sunrise, waited for the next spring, waited for the next conquest. But most of all, Thranduil was waiting for his beloved son to come back. 

He had never returned. 

Mirkwood was not the treasure house of the beautiful memory but rather the vestige of sadness imprinted by loss.  
The remnant of the forgotten past was buried here in the king's hall. 

It was the abomination of Eru, the Mighty God, that cursed Thranduil to live forever with no love.  
Every breath of the king was lifeless. He had died a long time ago in the flame of Mordor where his queen fell into the enemy’s hand.  
All he wanted was to see him again, Legolas.

"Mae athollen, ion nín.* Welcome back, my son." Whispered Thranduil. He wanted to greet Legolas on his return.

Silence, only silence covered the king's hall. Living alone for too long, Thranduil felt he started losing his mind.

"Welcome back home, my son." He whispered again. He wanted to hold his son in his arms. It would be the first time in a thousand year that he would find his peace again. 

“I hope I do not interrupt you, your Majesty.” A servant came in. He bowed once. Lord Elrond sent a dossier to Thranduil. He opened it delicately. 

“Ae! A copy of the red book of Westmarch written by Bilbo and Frodo.” His eyes gleamed with joy. It might be interesting, Thranduil thought. Flipping through the book quickly, Thranduil was disappointed. He put the book down and sighed. 

“They rarely mention anything about me in the book. I am the great king of Mirkwood, but they don’t even give me the name in the book. Ae! yes. The Elven king! How many times? Two, three. That’s all they talk about me? I had fought thousands of wars before these little toddlers learned to walk. My life is more adventurous!”  
Thranduil was furious, then he calmed down, realizing that the servant was watching. 

“Very well, I don’t care about this nonsense.” He sat on his throne again. The king's hall was silent once more. 

“Your Majesty, do you want me to keep it in your library?” asked the servant. 

“Keep it anywhere you like. Do not trouble me with this immaterial matter. Just keep it out of my sight.” 

The servant bowed again but before he was about to leave Thranduil changed his mind. 

“Wait. Let me take a look at it again. Maybe it’s not too bad for me to read. I am dying of boredom in this great hall.”  
Thranduil took the book back with enthusiasm. 

“I have a better idea. I will write a new one, a new story about me. Ae! I don’t have much time. Maybe I will start with short stories first then let see where it leads to. Bring me a pen.” He commanded. The servant rushed to fulfill his demand. A table was set up on his throne. 

“Trees may wither. Rivers may dry. Lands may decline, but the only way to keep the memory survives is to write.” Said Thranduil.

“Si ath thûr!* Now to victory!” Thranduil began his first chapter.


	2. Now! To Victory!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Elvish phrases I wrote came from http://tara.istad.org/sind-phrases.htm  
> Hi, everybody! Thanks for dropping by. I appreciate it.

Legend had it that King Thranduil had no heart. There was no love in him. In contrast with the hearsay told by some old nannies during bedtime, there was, truly, love in his heart. His kingdom, for example, was one of the things he loved the most. However, he had never showed his true feeling to anyone, not even to his only child, Legolas. He had hidden for too long in this vast forest, alone and frail. He seemed to forget that once he had loved and had been loved. 

“King Thranduil has no heart. There’s no love in him.” Murmuring the words in the dark, Thranduil lingered in the shadow for too long. Neither sunlight nor moonlight could resurrect him from deep sorrow. 

The fragment of his memory told him, Love was still hidden somewhere in his heart. Touching his chest gently, he couldn’t feel it. 

The first person who taught him to love was King Oropher. 

“You can not rule only by force, son. It is not your right to repress others’ will to live by force. By force, we get obedience, but by love we conquer the people hearts. Punishment solely provokes resistance. Compassion, on the other hand, unites us all. 

There’s nothing evolved from hatred. Only death is the end of the king who hates. Be the king who loves his people, then love will lead you to the greater path.” 

Thranduil had loved in his heart until the flame of wars took away everything from him.  
“The conflagration. Yes, I should write about it.” Thranduil muttered. 

The melancholic atmosphere covered the king’s hall. He felt pain in his chest while sitting alone here. The sadness was unbearable. He must write. 

It was during the last alliance of Elves and Men era when Oropher maneuvered his trooped South. 

“There shall be no peace in the presence of Sauron” Oropher told his son while mounted on his elk. 

It would be the great act of the king fighting against the tyranny. Thranduil agreed. 

It was a noble act. My father was a great king. Thranduil wrote.

Flowers, perfumes, feasts, all the people adorned their path to Mordor with high hope. “The great king cannot fall. The victory is certain.” Said the people.

He remembered they chanted beautiful songs in Oropher’s great hall before they departed, the same kind of the throne hall he was sitting.

“Now to victory! Si ath thûr!” Oropher exclaimed while toasting his wine glass. They marched down to Dagorlad.

 

First, there was a flame. Second, there was smoke. 

“We are under attack!” A soldier shouted.

“Tiro!* Look out!” 

It was like shooting stars, falling from the sky beautifully, but cruelly. The flame of Mordor, the magic of the dark lord, attacked their armies fiercely. 

Everything was burned. Everything. He heard crying and then scream. He smelled burning flesh. Looking around, there was nothing left. Nothing. Only the remnant of his dying soldiers laid on the field. 

Taking his father on his elf, Thranduil raised it fast. They must retreat.  
Thranduil learned the hard truth while gathering his forces again.  
Only one-fourth of his armies survived. 

“Did we win?” whispered Oropher. He was half asleep when Thranduil laid him on his bed.  
“Yes, father. We won. Sauron was defeated.” Thranduil lied. Slightly smile came on Oropher’s face.  
“Am I a good king?” Oropher asked tremblingly. The blood from his mouth slowly ran down.  
“Yes, Your Majesty. You are the greatest of the greatest. You rule by love. You lead us to victory.”  
“To victory. Yes. Ae! Now to victory! Si ath thûr!” Uttering the last word, Oropher closed his eyes. Thranduil held him tightly. He didn’t let his tear fall.  
“We need you now, my lord. What should we do next?” Said a soldier.  
Judging from the circumstance, Thranduil did not have enough forces to fight against Sauron. One-fourth was nothing. The kingdom would barely survive with this small number of manpower. 

“We go home.”

The crown prince, now the king, commanded. Thranduil went back to the north, where he must unite his people again. His duty was not about conquering the new land or fighting against tyrannies.  
His sole duty was about protecting his people, tending the wound burned by the flame of wars. 

His journey as the king was tedious. He found himself fighting against hardship incessantly. There was nothing left much in Thranduil’s era. The financial situation was ruined by his father’s expense of fighting the wars. 

He had to move repeatedly. There was no peace anywhere. Dwarves, Orcs and the shadow of Sauron followed him everywhere. The people of Amon Lanc were outcasts. They moved endlessly, fleeted the wars and lived in fear. The great conflagration in Dagorlad still haunted Thranduil every night. 

Eventually, Thranduil found a quiet place in Mirkwood. In the deepest of the forest laid a peaceful land he had hoped for. It was there untouchable by the outsider for thousand years. In Mirkwood, they would be no more intruders. They could start living again. Then slowly, he built his throne hall in memory of his father, Oropher, the Great. 

He grew tired of fighting. He grew tired of moving. But, above all, he grew tired of waiting.

“Your Majesty it is time to bed” The servant reminded him. Putting his pen down, Thranduil sat quietly. 

“You can go now. I will wait for my son a little longer. Perhaps he will come back today.”

“He won’t come my Lord. It is too far from the Undying lands. Come, my lord. Take some rest. Maybe he will come tomorrow.”  
Hesitating for a brief moment, he reluctantly agreed. It was too late for Legolas to come home. Maybe he is in Bree, sleeping in the Prancing Pony. Maybe he is in Dale. Who knows where he actually is? He will come tomorrow. He will. Thranduil told himself. He could feel the pain in his chest. It was tolerable as long as he thought his son would come back to him.

Thranduil took the servant’s hand and then got up from his chair shivering. It was too cold in the king’s hall. He did not realise how much he had spent on this throne. Slowly the main gate of the king’s hall was shut. It was time to retreat.


	3. The King With The Wooden Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Elvish phrases I wrote came from http://tara.istad.org/sind-phrases.htm  
> Hi, everybody! Thanks for dropping by. I appreciate it.

The new king was crowned around a thousand year of the third age. His coronation was simple than the former king. The ceremony ended quickly after the high priest had announced his righteousness as a king.

The new kingdom under Thranduil was impoverished. His crown was not made of luxurious gold, as it should be. It was an oak wooden crown embellished with red leaves and berries. 

The aftermath of the wars wounded the kingdom too deep. There was nothing left to celebrate on that day. Mirkwood realm was not on its glorious time anymore. 

“Mirkwood needs no hero. It does not need a king who fights boldly and dies. It needs a king who fight cautiously and lives.” Thranduil told the crowd on his coronation day. 

“I did not lead you all here to fight another battle. No more wars! No more bloodshed. From now on, we shall live in peace.” He raised his sword.

“Long live the king!” the crowd exclaimed. 

“The fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure." Said the king.

“Devotion, my son, is the most important quality a king must possess.” Thranduil thought about Oropher’s words. He felt his tear was about to fall. He clung Oropher’s sword close to his heart. From now on, it was his duty to protect his people. 

He walked elegantly to his throne.

Every step was painful. He did not want to inherit his father’s kingdom. It was not his intention to become a king. 

Sitting on the throne, Thranduil hid his true feeling inside. From that moment, he masqueraded as a heartless king. 

 

He wished his wife to be there for him, but she was not. 

Only painful truth reminded him that his wife and Oropher, had perished in the flame of wars. The only thing he had left was Legolas. From now on, he shall protect his son at all cost. 

“Ada, will I get a new elk?” Legolas asked while Thranduil was putting him to bed. Legolas’s elk had been slain by Orcs. He was terrified of those cruel monsters outside his father’s palace.  
Thranduil touched Legolas’s cheek gently. 

“I will make sure that the little prince gets everything he needs.” Thranduil kissed his son’s forehead softly. He sang Legolas a woodland Elvish song. 

 

“When Nana will come back?” asked the prince. He did not know that his mother had died behind the wall of Mordor. Thranduil did not want to tell the truth to his son.

“Soon. Very soon, son.” He dimmed the light in his son’s bedroom.  
“Oltho vae ne fuin hen*. May you dream well tonight.” He closed the door silently after his son fell asleep. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He told himself. He took a deep breath while walking back to his throne hall. Tonight is long. There will be more works to be done. People are waiting for my command in the king’s hall. I should not cry, at least not for now. 

 

The king with the wooden crown went back to his hall grievously. The pain in his chest was inexplicable.


	4. The War of The White Gems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will consist of 7 chapters so I think the final chapter should be posted on Sunday. Thanks for every comment and kudos. I really appreciate it.

People said he was a lunatic. A corrupted king who marched his armies to death for his obsession, the pure obsession of the white gems in Erabor. The treasure that long lost in the time of King Thingol was the reason Elves of Mirkwood shed their blood to pay the price of their king’s voracity. 

He was not proud of his ill reputation, but it was unavoidable. The king must make a decision. He could not let criticism ruin his kingdom. 

The flame of the war was looming once more. He realized it after interrogating the captive Orc. He must act. The vulnerable wall of Mirkwood would not defense his people. They needed a well-built bulwark to fortify the kingdom. There was no option. He must find a source of money to build such a massive fortification and those white gems were the answer. 

Praying for many years for the creature to leave Erabor, he lastly got what he had wished for. Eru finally answered his prayer. The dragon was dead. 

It was unplanned to go to Erabor at first. Provisions were not ready. Not mentioning, his soldiers who were not alarm about the war. He was not prepared to gather his troops, but he must take a risk. It was a selfless act unlike what most of the people believed. His obligation was duty. His victory was the stability of Mirkwood. Sauron’s army was rising in the south. He had no choice.  
Bringing back the treasure that once had belonged to Elven kind was the only way to save Mirkwood. 

Now he must act fast and secretly. The plan was organized. He would march as quickly as possible to bring back his treasure, and then build the great wall to defend Sauron. What he did not expect was the arrival of the four armies. It should not be as bloodshed as it was had he arrived earlier. 

Legolas was furious, he remembered. His son blamed him for the loss. Finally, he departed. Many Elves were slain in the battle, but they did not die in vain. The wall was built and Sauron had never set his foot on Mirkwood soil. 

“Should I be condemned to be lonely forever?” Asked Thranduil while the servant brought him dinner. Struck by the question, the servant was unable to reply. He wished he could say any wise word, but he could not. 

“I got everything now. The wall. The gems. The land. Still I cannot find any peace in me. I had wished to live endlessly. But, what’s the point in life if we cannot find any joy? If life has no end and we are destined to suffer, what is the purpose to live without any tenderness in the presence of love? Immortality is a true curse. When there has neither beginning nor end, we live ceaseless in misery. I am the king, and yet I find no content in siting on this throne. I am alone in this king’s hall surrounded by the desolation of the place I called home.” Thranduil pressed his chest. The sharp pain attacked him. He took a deep breath. The servant kneed down. 

“ Your Majesty, please, don’t give up on life. There has hope left here. As the dark cannot conquer the light, desperation cannot conquer hope. There still has the moonlight shining upon you in this darkest hour” The servant consoled Thranduil. 

“My son is not coming back. I…He’s not coming back! You !fool! He will never forgive me! Never!” 

“Then go to him, my lord.”  
“I cannot. You know that.” 

Thranduil never told anything to Legolas about the problems they were facing, especially the financial situation. He wanted his son to be proud of him. He wanted Legolas to remember Mirkwood as a prosperous kingdom as it had been in the era of King Thingol. He didn’t want to let him down. 

It was too ungracious for the prince. Thranduil thought. It may wound his pride. 

Would Legolas forgive his father if he knew the truth?

Thranduil walked to the window to catch a glimpse of his son. It was only the shadow of trees moving outside. 

Another day of waiting.


	5. In The Midst of Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * The Elvish phrases came from http://tara.istad.org/sind-phrases.htm * I didn't write them.  
> Hi, everyone. Thanks for stopping by! I really appreciate it! This is the chapter 5 so it is nearly the end.

Love neither perishes nor declines. It can withstand through time, for love is eternal.

Thranduil had only one dream, to live happily with his family in a peaceful land. It was the only dream he could not possess. In the recollection of the distressed past, Thranduil thought about the day he lost his wife. 

“My lord! We must go now!” A soldier shouted. 

“There’s no time!”

He held her tightly in his arms. 

She opened her eyes slowly. He kissed her forehead gently.  
“We’re going home?” she asked.

“Yes, our home! Legolas is waiting for us! Be strong, all right? Stay with me! We are going home. No more war! No more bloodshed! Just us, you, me and our Legolas.”

“You…take good care of him. Promise me, you take good care of him. Tell him that I…love him.” 

“You tell him yourself! I won’t let you die here alone in the midst of nowhere. ” Tear filled Thranduil eyes. 

“Please, don’t cry. Your eyes are as beautiful as moonlight on the sea *Hin lín bain sui Ithilgalad buin Aear. I hate to see you cry.” Holding his hand close to her chest. He could feel her heart beat slowly. 

“It is the end of our journey. You have to let me go. You are the father of the nation.” He started crying. 

“You must protect our land. Leave me here! You have no time to weep! Ride back to North! Gather your troops! This is the new chapter of your era. Long lives King Thranduil. May the leaves of your life tree never wither. *Pelo nalú i laiss en-Galadh Guil lín” Wiping his tear softly. 

“I wish we could live together eternally. I will love you forever. *Le melithon anuir” She closed her eyes. 

 

“I can’t let you go. No. I don’t want to. Wake up my love. I want to hear your heartbeat. I want to hear your sweet voice calling me home again. We are going home. My love. Can you hear me? Please, wake up. Odulen an edraith anlen* I am here to save you. Can you hear me?”

Carrying her on the elk back, he could not feel her heartbeat. It was raining heavily when his scattered army fled. The rain was so cold, but his heart was burning in flame. 

“Why do you come to me?” Celeborn asked unexpectedly. Thranduil still carried his wife in his arm while entering the pavilion of Celeborn. 

“You are our greatest master of all the Elves. You are my first teacher. Master tells me what to do. I come to you because there is no one else I can turn to in this darkest hour. The fire has taken away everything from me. I lost my friends. I lost my father and now I am losing my wife. ” Thranduil replied desperately.

“I might be one of the most powerful Elves in Middle-eath. But I do not know whether I can help soothing the trouble in Your Majesty’s mind. I may not be able to advise you on this matter.” Celeborn spoke firmly. 

“There must be the way to save her from dying.” He insisted.  
“Let her go. Her time has come. There’s nothing can stop her from dying. You know one way to another we all perished. Neither men nor Elves escapes from this law. We might be proud to call ourselves ‘immortal.' But do we actually are able to escape from the wheel of time?”  
Silence covered the room. Thranduil was despair. He touched his wife hair tenderly.  
“I wish we could live forever. I want us to be eternal.” Said Thranduil.  
“There’s no eternal joy in life. ”  
“And nor in death” Thranduil disagreed.  
“You must seek your own way since I do not know the way to resurrect her.”  
“Then you are not my master anymore.”  
“I told you once before I came unto this World. You can’t follow my teaching blindly. It is your quest Thranduil, not mine. I can’t help you.”

Thranduil left. 

For months, he was trying to save his wife, but no one could conquer death, not even the queen. 

“Rest well, my love. *Posto vae” Thranduil kissed her forehead. 

On the fourth night of that Narbeleth, she passed away peacefully while the king rode north to gather his people. 

There, in the midst of nowhere, the first chapter of the history of Mirkwood was written from its leader's tear. King Thranduil, the heartless king, was born on the day his wife die.


	6. The Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothron* = May  
> Orbelain*= was the sixth day of the week for the Grey elves.

Mirkwood returned to life once more when Lothron* came.   
As the new season started, all the flowers blossomed beautifully.   
Listening to the whisper of birds, Thranduil felt calm. It was a silent afternoon. Slowly he put his feet in the water while sitting on the riverbank. He could feel the coldness of the river. It relaxed him. 

“I am sorry to interrupt you, Your Majesty.”  
“What is it?”  
“You have a visitor.” Replied the servant.  
His eyes gleamed with joy. He stood up quickly.   
“No, it is not your son. I am sorry.”   
“Oh.” His head dropped.   
“Good afternoon, Thranduil. It has been long since the last time we met.” The lady in radiant white cloak greeted. 

“Lady Galadriel. It is my pleasure to see you again. What brings you to Mirkwood? I thought you had left for the Undying lands.”   
“No, I decide to sail last. There has undone business here in Middle-earth.” Galadriel replied. Her voice was serene. 

“I am happy to see you again, my lady.” Thranduil bowed.   
“Likewise. I wish to know how you are.” 

“Same as the old day, my lady. Nothing changes much.” He replied briefly.   
“Celeborn wants you to sail to Undying lands with me. He is waiting for you there. My ship will leave on Orbelain* Come with me.” Galadriel smiled graciously. 

“I am tired of moving, my lady. I have lived here for too long. This place becomes my sanctuary now.” He smiled sadly. 

“The time has change, Thranduil. Middle-earth has become the land of men. There is nothing left here for us. You should depart with me.” Galadriel insisted.  
“There’s nothing for me at the Undying lands. I will stay here.” Reluctantly, he declined the offer. 

“You still have me, father. We still have each other.” Suddenly he heard the familiar voice from behind. He turned around. His heart was fulfilled by joy.   
“Legolas.” He was motionless when facing his son.  
“It has been so long, father.”  
“All these year, where have you been?” asked Thranduil.   
“Here and there. It’s not important.” Legolas sighed.  
“I am so sorry for everything. Please, forgive me, my son.”   
“You have nothing to apologize. I am the one who should apologize to you. I left you alone here for too long.”   
They both went in silence.  
“Please, forgive me. Father.” Pulling Thranduil close to him, Legolas held his father tight.   
“Forgive? What are you talking about? There’s nothing to apologize” Thranduil closed his eyes. All he had wanted was to see Legolas again. Nothing else mattered.  
“Come with me to the Undying lands.” Legolas urged.   
“I…” Thranduil paused. He was not sure what to do. 

“Celeborn wants me to tell you that there is hope for you there. You must seek the light. You must fight to find the way out of the darkness. Hope is the gift that Eru gave us. Do not abandon his bless. There is nothing enlighten about living in sorrow forever. The new day has come. All you have to do is embrace it. Liberate yourself from the past and manifest your new destiny.” Galadriel smiled gently. 

“Yes, you are right. It is time to move on.” Thranduil replied. Warm breeze of summer blew gently. He could smell the sweet odor of flowers. Summer had come to Mirkwood.

It was time for a new start.


	7. The Magic of The Undying lands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the Sinderin phrases came from http://tara.istad.org/sind-phrases.htm
> 
> Hi, this is the last chapter of the story. Thanks you all from the bottom of my heart for reading it. So far, it is the first long story I have written so I am still struggling to find the tone and the voice of the story. Thanks for all the comments both from fanfiction.net and here. It really helps me developing my skill in writing. I will keep trying and learning. Have a nice day everyone. *May the leaves of your life tree never wither ~ Pelo nalú i laiss en-Galadh Guil lín*

The rain fell gently as a kiss. He could hear the sound of the raindrop touching the walkway softly. Surmounted by a floral-leave canopy, a pentagonal castle laid at the end of the path. The façade of the building was concealed behind rich bunches of auburn vine. Morning fog obscured the sunlight created a dreamlike atmosphere while they were walking toward the foyer. His longtime comrade was waiting. He bowed his head. Likewise, the host returned the greeting. 

“It was a long time since we met. I did not have the time to say goodbye. Forgive me, my Lord.” Said Thranduil.

“We both were too occupied with our duties. There’s no need to apologize, Your Majesty. I am glad to see you again. I have been waiting for you.” Politely, Celeborn replied. He invited Thranduil to join him on the balcony.

As the sun slowly appeared on the horizon, the surrounding landscape was surreal. Greenish leaves changed color into deep sapphire when the sunlight warmly embraced the stretch of the vast forest. Gradually, the rain vanished. 

Gazing at the enchanting scenery of the Undying lands, they stood quietly. He could hear a birdsong, singing far away from the forest. 

“You once came to me for help. I rejected you.” Finally, Celeborn broke the silence.  
“I don’t blame you for that. I know now it is not possible to bring her back. At last, we all perish. You were right. There has no eternal joy in life.” After years of living in the dark, Thranduil finally surrendered.  
“And nor in death.” Celeborn reminded what he had said.  
“So in the end, we are destined to suffer both in life and in death?” Asked Thranduil.  
“I do no know the answer. I am not Eru therefore I do not have the omniscient knowledge. All I know is the rise and fall is uncertain. We are living in the debris of time, existing in a fragment of eternity.” Celeborn sighed. 

“It is beyond my knowledge to answer your question. The only thing that I can tell you now is I may be wrong. That’s why I sent Galadriel to meet you.”

“What do you mean?” Thranduil asked curiously. 

“Life is full of infinite possibilities, Your Majesty.” Celeborn smiled slightly.

“Just look at this place. It is magical. Can you hear the sound of the trees talking? Can you taste the sweetness of the wind? Can you feel the warmness of hope in every grain of sand? This is the place where there has no beginning and end. This is a place to mend every broken soul where we finally rest in the presence of eternal joy.” 

“I can’t feel anything.” Touching his chest, Thranduil found emptiness filling his heart.  
“*Golden Sun, may your warmth bring healing to this heart. Anor valthen, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen*At last, you will find peace again here with Legolas and…there, someone is waiting for you.” Down there, in the forest below Celeborn’s castle, Thranduil saw a familiar shadow of someone. He was motionless.

“That’s impossible.”

“I told you once that we could not live forever in joy. Here in the Undying lands, I was wrong. It is the magic of this place. I cannot explain how it happened, but this place has wondrous power of Eru.” Celeborn paused while leading Thranduil downstair.

“It is the magic of the Undying love.” Celeborn grinned.

There, his son Legolas.

There, his father, Oropher.

And there…

Running quickly into the forest, his heart beat so fast. He could not catch his breath. His legs were trembling, but the only thing he knew was he must run. 

He could hear the sound of the tree talking.  
He could taste the sweetness of the wind blowing through his path.  
He could feel the warmness of the sand in every step.  
And, above all, he could hear someone calling him.

Looking around, Thranduil found nothing. His heart sank. The shadow had disappeared. It was just an illusion of the forest that tricked him to believe that she had returned.  
“How foolish I am.” Thranduil mocked at himself. 

Turning back slowly, Thranduil could feel the pain in his heart subsided. He stopped chasing the shadow of her. All of his life, he spent so much time building invisible walls around him. He had hidden under his mask for too long until his heart turned into stone. 

The gentle rain began pouring down while Thranduil was walking back toward the fortress. He didn’t want to fool himself any longer to think that she would come back to life. ‘I must bury everything in Mirkwood. No more delusional hope.’ He sighed. 

When the sunlight touched the rain, the sprinkle glittered like golden stars shining in the sky. 

“Meleth nín* Where are you going?” Hearing a familiar voice, Thranduil stopped.  
In the sunlight, he could see the silhouette of a familiar figure. He was about to faint when she walked toward him. ‘It is impossible.’ Thranduil thought. 

“It’s been so long.” She said. Pulling her closer, Thranduil could feel the warmness of her body while holding her tight. He could hear her heartbeat again as well as his. There’s life in her. 

She’s alive. She’s alive. 

Thranduil was speechless. He could not come up with any word. Tear of joy slowly dropped, he could not restrain it to fall anymore. 

“Let’s go home my love. Legolas and Oropher are waiting.” She told him.  
“Yes, let’s go home.” Thranduil smiled. 

He took her in his arms again, and this time he did not let her go.


End file.
